


Pain Demands To Be Felt

by Nikka001



Series: The Beach House [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Beach House, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Overload, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, Loss of Parent(s), Mentions of Virgin!Clarke, Romantic Soulmates, Sad Bellamy Blake, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikka001/pseuds/Nikka001
Summary: It's hard trying to stay strong for those you love.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Octavia Blake & Clarke Griffin
Series: The Beach House [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803856
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Pain Demands To Be Felt

**Author's Note:**

> So this story didn't go at all how I planned it to. It started off as one idea and then somehow morphed into another one. But I like what's become of my original idea and I hope you do too. 
> 
> Also, quick note: Bellamy and Clarke are both 17 in this story (as with the first story as well) and Octavia is roughly around 15. Maybe 16 at this point. Just wanted to let you guys know in case anyone had any questions.
> 
> -Annika

Octavia yelps, startled as Clarke grabs her by the wrist and pulls her into an empty classroom behind them. 

Shutting the door once they’re both inside, Clarke turns to face her best friend, a panicked look on her face. “You need to tell me what your brother is planning.”

“What are you talking about?”

Clarke groans. “Don’t do that, Octavia. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Bellamy is planning a special weekend away for our six month anniversary and I need you to tell me what it is.”

Sighing, Octavia takes a seat on top of one of the desks behind her. “I can’t. It’s supposed to be a surprise. He made me promise not to say anything.”

“Octavia, please!” Clarke pleads with the other girl, her voice rising in volume. “I’m freaking out right now and need to know if he’s planning what I think he’s planning.”

“Well, what do you think he’s planning?” 

Clarke feels her cheeks heat up and turns her head away from Octavia’s stare. She doesn’t want to say it out loud. They may be in this room alone but someone could still overhear. She doesn’t want to risk that. A gasp coming from the other girl has Clarke cringing internally, knowing that Octavia must have figured it out.

“Oh, Clarke...I completely forgot. I’m so sorry,” Octavia’s voice is softer than it had been earlier and Clarke can hear her scoot off the table, her boots hitting the ground, and step closer until she’s right in front of Clarke. “Clarke, you need to tell him. He needs to know that you’ve never...you know.”

Shaking her head, Clarke raises her gaze to look at Octava and quickly drags a hand down her face. “No. It’ll be fine. There’s nothing to be worried about. Really. It’ll be okay.”

Octavia reaches out and places a hand on Clarke’s upper arm to comfort her friend, “Clarke, he needs to know. You can’t just not tell him. Not when it’s something this big.”

“It’s not that big, okay? I was just overreacting before.”

Octavia tries reasoning with her. “Clarke-”

“No. It’s fine. I’ve gotta go anyway. Class is starting soon. I’ll see you at lunch.” Clarke rushes out to her best friend before exiting the room and letting the door swing shut behind her, leaving Octavia feeling worried. She has to do something before this gets out of hand. 

***

“Bell, can I talk to you for a minute?” Octavia asks leaning against the open door to her brother’s room, watching him while he finishes packing a few last minute things into his backpack. 

He nods and waves her in, stepping out of the way as she climbs onto his bed and flops back against the pillows he has leaning up against the headboard. She’s silent for a few minutes, just watching as he goes from drawer to drawer in case he forgot anything, and tries to find the best way to talk to him about what’s been on her mind.

“O, what’s going on? You look angstier than usual.”

Octavia sits up and scoffs, throwing one of the smaller pillows at him. “I am not angsty.”

“Oh yeah,” Bellamy counters, laughing as he crosses the room to the wall next to his door and untacks the bottom edge of a large Fall Out Boy poster, lifting it to reveal a foot sized hole in the drywall. “Tell that to my wall. You still haven’t apologized for this, by the way.”

“That was not angst. I was twelve and pissed that we lost our soccer game to those Grounder cheaters so I let off a little steam. Now can I please talk to you. It’s serious.”

She can pinpoint the exact second Bellamy shifts from ‘teasing big brother’ to ‘concerned big brother’ and marvels at the lottery she must have won in life to get such a good big brother. His teasing smirk falls and he walks over to take a seat at the foot of the bed, next to her still booted feet. He looks at her in concern when she drops her gaze from his and starts picking off the dark nail polish she’d just applied a few days ago. 

She’s racking her brain for the right words but can’t seem to find them. There’s no way she can tell him what’s really going on with Clarke. Not without breaking the most important promise she’s ever made. She has to find a way to help. 

“Promise me you’ll be careful with Clarke tonight.”

That came out a lot different than what she’d meant to say.

“What?”

She looks up at her brother and drops her hands into her lap. “Promise me that you’ll be careful with Clarke tonight. Please?”

He gives her a strange look, “Of course I will be. You know that.”

“I know. I just -- I know that tonight is supposed to be really special for you guys and I don’t want anything to ruin it.”

“Like what?” he asks.

Octavia hesitates. “Like Dad.”

“Dad has nothing to do with this.”

“Bell…”

He shakes his head. “O, stop.”

“It’s okay, Bell. I know you haven’t been back there since...since that night.”

“I was there six months ago.”

She shakes her head this time. “But that was different. Everyone else was there too, and you barely stepped foot inside the house. You just stayed outside and got a motel room for the week. This is going to be a lot different than that.”

He sighs heavily. “I know. But I’ll be fine. I can handle it.”

Patting her on the leg, Bellamy rises from the bed and returns to packing up his things, a sure sign that the conversation has now ended. Octavia sighs and leans back against his pillows, grabbing one and holding it close to her chest. She watches him as he shoves a tube of sunscreen in the side of his bag and zips up the pockets. She wants to say more. She wants to say how worried she is for the both of them. How worried she is that Clarke won’t say anything and end up getting hurt. How worried she is that Bellamy won’t even be able to sleep in that house without nightmares. He barely makes it through them when he’s asleep at home. She wants to help, but she can’t. She’s done her best but now, it’s up to them. She only hopes that they can help each other in ways that she can’t.

***

The drive to the beach house that night is a quiet one, the only noise being the low humming coming from the car itself. They’d been driving for a few hours before it had started to get dark and now, they only have a few more minutes before finally reaching their destination. 

Bellamy is keeping his eyes on the road ahead but glances over at Clarke every few minutes, worried at how quiet she’s been since they left the city. He reaches out with one hand to grab the one of hers that’s closest to him resting on her thigh. 

She startles and turns her head to look at him but relaxes after a few seconds, smiling at him and flipping her hand over to interlace their fingers. He smiles back and then returns his eyes to the road just in time to turn onto the path ahead.

They pull up to the house, Bellamy putting the car in park and shutting off the engine. He moves to open his door when he hears Clarke take a deep breath. He glances over at her and watches curiously as she stares out the window up at the quiet house in front of them. 

“Hey,” he says softly, careful not to startle her like before, “are you okay?”

She turns her head to look at him, her lips parted slightly and her cheeks tinted pink. Nodding, she reaches out to cup his chin and pulls him towards her for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet and he smiles into it as he places his hand over hers and then pulls back.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She smiles and whispers back, “I love you too.”

Bellamy gives her hand a squeeze before climbing out of the car and walking around the front to open the door and let her step out. She grabs her bag from the floor of the car and hoists it up onto her shoulder, slamming the door shut and taking a hold of Bellamy’s hand. He smiles at her as he leads her down the rest of the pathway and up the front steps of the house. 

When they reach the front door, Bellamy digs through his jacket pocket and then pulls out the set of keys he’d nabbed from his mom that afternoon. He unlocks the door and pushes it open for Clarke to step through and into the open space of the front room, him following not too far behind. He breathes deeply, taking it all in as he steps further into the room with Clarke right by his side, her hand now back in his.

“You okay?” she asks, her voice quiet as she lets him soak it all in.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak when he’s got so many emotions going through his mind all at the same time. 

“Bellamy.” She tugs on his hand to get him to look at her, a smile on her lips as she speaks, “I know it’s been hard for you this year, finally coming back here, and I just want you to know how proud I am of you.”

He nods again and again and again until tears are spilling and his breath is catching in his throat and he’s dropping to his knees, one hand clutching his chest and the other still holding tight to Clarke’s hand. She lowers herself onto the ground next to him and wraps her free arm around his shoulders pulling him in and holding on for dear life.

***

They stay that way for a while, Clarke’s arms wrapped protectively around Bellamy, and Bellamy crying into her shoulder. It hurts her to see him so broken up like this and she wishes that she could just make it all go away but she knows she can’t. Not this kind of pain. 

So instead, she helps him up from the floor and leads him over to the couch where they sit together, her on the end and him sitting curled up next to her. He seems smaller like this and it’s strange to see him so vulnerable. But she says nothing. She only keeps her arm around him and lets him be vulnerable, if only just for tonight. 

He stops crying eventually, his body ultimately moving to stretch out across the couch, his feet touching the arm and his head resting comfortably in Clarke’s lap facing up to the ceiling. Her fingers pull gently through his hair, offering a warm comforting feeling he hasn’t felt for some time. She’s humming softly, the tune of some song they’d danced to the night of the fall formal only a week ago. He’d held her in his arms that night, her arms around his neck and head resting against his chest while they swayed back and forth under the twinkling lights strung up in the gym.

“I can’t remember it.”

His voice draws Clarke back to the present. “What?”

“I can’t remember it. The last time we came here as a family.”

She takes a deep breath, wanting to say something but knowing it’s probably best to just let him say what he needs to say. He’s silent though, only the sound of his breathing matching hers can be heard as he reaches up and takes the hand running through his hair in his. He brings it down to rest on his chest and weaves their fingers together. Clarke watches patiently the rise and fall of his chest, their hands joined together on top. 

“Clarke, why can’t I remember anything?”

The way he says it makes Clarke’s heart break and she gives his hand a squeeze as she replies, “It was eight years ago Bell. You can’t expect to remember a specific day. It doesn’t always work like that.”

“But you remember your dad, don't you?”

“I do, but he died when I was young so I don’t remember much.” She tries to keep the heartache she feels from her words when she responds.

Bellamy shifts his body so he’s now sitting up beside Clarke, their hands still clasped together and resting on his thigh. “What do you remember?”

Clarke thinks for a minute and then smiles. “I remember Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Bellamy asks.

“Mhm. When I was five. It was the last Christmas we had together and it was an absolute disaster.” She laughs at the memory and glances over at Bellamy to find him with his head leaned back against the back of the couch.

“What happened?”

“Dad decided to cut the tree himself that year. He was really, really proud of how well he did. We decorated it with lights, tinsel, and even a few homemade ornaments that he insisted were too good not to put on the tree.” Clarke shifts her body so her legs are tucked up beneath her and she's sitting just a little bit closer to Bellamy, their thighs now touching. 

“Anyways,” she continues, “Christmas Eve came and went and everything was fine. We woke up Christmas morning, gathered downstairs around the Christmas tree and started handing out gifts to each other. I was so excited. But, as it turns out, a sold clay gift ornament made by a five-year-old is a little too heavy for the dead branch of a tree. It weighed it down so much that in the middle of opening presents, the branch broke off and fell right on top of my head. The corner of the ornament cut my head and we ended up spending the rest of Christmas morning in the hospital. Best Christmas ever honestly. I don’t think anything will top it.”

She looks back over at Bellamy and smiles when she notices the way his eyes are closed, his breathing has evened out, and his mouth is open just slightly. He must've been more exhausted than she’d realized before. 

Not wanting to wake him when he looks so peaceful, Clarke grabs one of the blankets off of the chair sitting next to her and carefully drapes it across them both. She snuggles in closer to her boyfriend and lays her head next to his, closing her eyes and drifting off into sleep with a smile on her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you guys thought! I love to read your thoughts and opinions. 
> 
> Also, in case anyone was wondering, I do have a few more stories for this series that I plan on writing so you can definitely look forward to some more for these wonderful characters.
> 
> Thanks for reading. See you guys next time!
> 
> -Annika


End file.
